Quite Disengaged
by Jaina Kenobi
Summary: Though they are married, Mr. Darcy has never quite given up his habit of "often standing within a very short distance of her, quite disengaged," and Elizabeth wants to know why. Very short, mostly fluffy one-shot.


Mr. Darcy and his bride had not been settled at Pemberley above a week before it became quite clear that there was a general expectation that they would immediately host a ball to introduce Mrs. Darcy to the neighborhood. They had, of course, anticipated as much, but Elizabeth hardly felt equal to the task. She had no experience in running the day-to-day affairs of Pemberley, let alone organizing a special occasion. She had been hoping that there would be an allowance of some months before the event became a necessity, even allowing for the four months they had already spent in London for the Christmas season, but she soon came to see that it was so generally expected of her that she could not ignore it for so long. And so a ball there would be.

Elizabeth would not allow herself to be daunted by the task above ten minutes after she came to the conclusion that it was necessary, however, and she set about the preparation with all good cheer. Her enthusiasm was such that even her husband confessed himself anticipating the event with pleasure, though he usually disliked balls in general. How much that pleasure depended on the anticipation of showing off his wife to his connections, Elizabeth did not ask, though she had her suspicions. She was only too glad of his enthusiasm, for it meant that she could involve him in the planning and rely on his experience to ensure that it came together well.

Her timing perhaps left something to be desired, for the morning of the event she was still scrambling to finish everything. But when the guests began to arrive, she and Mr. Darcy were able to greet them warmly and cheerfully. She could even pretend to ignore their scrutiny of her, though it was all she could do to maintain that facade, for she knew that every single person who was able to attend did so out of nothing more than curiosity. Everyone longed to see how the new Mrs. Darcy would fit in to the Derbyshire society and, more particularly, how her husband felt about _her_, and how she felt about _him._

However, everything went swimmingly, and they opened the ball in high spirits. Darcy's reaction to her song selection was everything she had hoped for - the moment the music swelled, and without skipping a beat, a smile lit up his face handsomely. He raised an eyebrow to her and remarked, "Interesting choice. Ought I to make a remark on the size of the room, or the number of couples? Or are the rules different now?"

Elizabeth could not repress her own smile. "You may, if you like, but I warn you, there is no one to blame for either, if they inconvenience you, save your own family. No, sir, I chose this song in hopes that we might hold a somewhat less hostile conversation this time than we had at Netherfield. And no one here shall be the wiser, save possibly the Bingleys - but then they surely have their own memories to enjoy."

This prompted an answering smile from her husband, but the dance separated them and he could not respond. When they came back together, he murmured, "You are yet lovelier now than you were in November, though I would not have believed it possible at the time." Elizabeth flushed, pleased.

"You mustn't act too enthralled by my beauty, Mr. Darcy, lest nobody think I have any qualities to redeem myself apart from my looks."

"No one who speaks to you above two minutes will easily miss your other charms, my dear," he said.

"We shall see after the ball, I suppose, which of us is right." There was indeed no shortage of opportunity for Mr. Darcy's point to prove itself, for everyone wished to monopolize Elizabeth's time as soon as she stepped off the dance floor. Her card was full in short order, and between sets she was not allowed to rest for there was always someone wishing to speak with her.

Though this all meant that she had little time to converse with her husband, she was constantly conscious of his presence not very distant from her. It was only a few months into their marriage that Elizabeth Darcy noticed something about her husband that she thought would have been lost to the earlier times in their relationship. Specifically, it came at an assembly in London, one that they had attended out of obligation rather than any particular pleasure, though Elizabeth was eager to dance again as she did particularly enjoy the amusement. This habit of her husband's, of lurking near her without being close enough to be engaged in whatever conversation she was having, she had initially taken to be a sign of his disgust, back in the earliest days of their acquaintance. His face remained schooled into a carefully neutral expression, but his eyes rarely left her face. And Elizabeth eventually realized, with a hot blush, that it was probably for no different cause now than it was the previous November, if she had been able to see it then.

It was no different today. So she stood, talking with acquaintances she barely knew and trying to prove herself worthy of the position of Mrs. Darcy, knowing all the while that half of her guests were there just to watch her fail in the role. She danced with young men who scurried to report back to their friends just how clever Mrs. Darcy actually was; she chatted with young women who felt nothing at against using all the barbs they knew to try to draw out all the flaws of this new creature; she talked with the matrons who were no less curious about her person, but far more skilled in the art of flattering a person into revealing unflattering things about themselves. Elizabeth had been aware that she was entering the society of "a pack of ravenous wolves," as Fitzwilliam had put it the other night. But she had been unprepared for the relentless onslaught of vitriol she could detect the moment her back was turned.

But she held her head high. For she knew that her husband was never far from her side, and that his eyes rarely left her face. And while she was no stranger to hearing whispers of "country nobody" and "no fortune at all to speak of, hardly respectable in any real sense of the word," she could not help but smile when those words were so often followed by, "yes, but just look at Mr. Darcy! He must see something in her if no one else does, for his eyes have not left her the whole night!"

One of the bolder girls was finally prodded into bringing it directly before Elizabeth that particular evening. She was still not entirely comfortable in her role, and she had no wish to shame her husband. "Mrs. Darcy," she said, "I cannot help feeling jealous of you. Not only because you have managed to captivate a man whom we all though beyond captivating - though I am sure I am not the only woman in the room who envies your success on that front - but because you seem to truly have engaged his heart. Do tell me, how did you manage it?"

Elizabeth could not help but laugh at that. The lady was young - she had heard rumors that it was the girl's first season out, though she had already begun to develop quite a reputation - and Elizabeth herself could well remember that overwhelming feeling that would at times sweep over her when she realized that here in these ballrooms and assembly halls she was expected somehow to select a suitable companion for the rest of her life, and how was one to know what that looked like in the course of a few dances? So her answer was perhaps not as harsh as it would otherwise have been. "My dear Miss Grey," she said gaily, "I have been trying to get my husband to explain that very thing! But I will tell you that Mr. Darcy's mind is formed in such a way that compliments the formation of my own exactly, and it took him less time to see that than it did me. Indeed, I had no idea of his forming any attachment to me until he had already done so, and was astonished as any body could be when he declared himself. But it is an honor I strive daily to be worthy of. I am well sensible of the great number of young ladies who would have been overjoyed to receive his attentions." It was about this time that Elizabeth became aware of her husband's presence slightly behind her. He remained quite disengaged - how he managed to do so was beyond her, as surely there were no small number of people also wishing to talk to him - and though his eyes rarely wandered in her direction, she could not help noticing that he was listening closely.

Miss Gray fluttered her fan before her face to hide a fleeting look of disgust. "But Mrs. Darcy, surely you don't mean to say that you had absolutely no intention of attaching him. Surely you must have tried something to gain his attention, at least."

"No, indeed I did not. You could not be farther from the truth if you tried. When I first met Mr. Darcy I thought of him in no other capacity than as the friend of Mr. Bingley, whom you must recall was quite taken with my sister. I focused my attention entirely on her happiness, and in so doing must have accidentally given a much more favorable account of my own charms than anything I could have intentionally done would have produced. I know what you are hoping for, Miss Gray, but I cannot give you advice beyond this: do what comes naturally to yourself, and show all the love that you can to those whom you care for. Such affection will bring out your natural beauty and then not a man in all of England will be able to see you and not mark it." Her husband had moved into her line of vision now, and she caught the faintest flicker of a smile. _There_, she told herself. _He is simply admiring you._ But in Hertfordshire she had trained herself to view his lurking about her as a sign of his displeasure, and she found that her uneasiness was not to be so easily shaken.

"You speak as though there were such beauty in all young women."

"Well! I believe there is. But most of us are quite good at hiding it. Take care that you do not, my dear, and I think you shall see that you attach only the best of men who can be attracted by your goodness and sweetness, not by your skills at dancing or netting purses."

Miss Grey, entirely unsatisfied, was unfortunately doomed to remain so for the evening, for it was no more prompting than that which brought Mr. Darcy to interrupt their _tete-a-tete_ and take his wife's hand for the supper set. As he was leading her down to the dance, he leaned close to her ear and murmured, "I thought you said you had no idea what drove me to love you? That was very well articulated for a woman of such ignorance as you professed on our last discussion."

"Aye, well, perhaps I have had cause for reflection since our last conversation on the subject. And since it could not have been my treatment of you directly that so attached you to me, I concluded that it must have been in the tenderer side of my disposition that you witnessed at Netherfield that brought you to cherish any tender feelings toward me." She tossed her head as she took her place in the line. "And what are you doing going stalking about the ballroom and eavesdropping on my conversations? I thought that habit would have died when we were wed, for you no longer need to conceal your feelings for me."

Mr. Darcy smiled as he led her through the forms. "You mistake my purpose," he said on their next coming together. "I do not stand near you with any intent to hide my feelings, though as a general rule I do not display them for the world to see. Rather, I find myself so drawn toward you that I simply cannot bring myself to leave. The flash in your eyes, the flush of your cheeks, the way your mouth forms your words so prettily, the way your throat moves as you speak..." He stopped himself, both of them suddenly acutely aware that this was not the time or place to have such a conversation. But then, in a voice so low that she struggled to hear it, he added,"Elizabeth, I could be stone deaf and find pleasure simply in watching you converse. Though I do confess I love the sound of your voice."

That brought yet more of a blush to her face, and she was thankful that the steps of the dance moved them apart to give her time to regain her composure. "In that case," she said as she moved toward him again, "I give you permission to follow me around any ballroom you like."

Mr. Darcy certainly did not require his wife's permission, but it should be noted that he maintained his habit throughout his life - and that Mrs. Darcy was known among her acquaintance to occasionally adopt a faint smile and a twinkle in her eye while conversing in a ballroom, which no one could ever quite explain.


End file.
